


The Nazz

by aura218



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 70s, Bowie, Concerts, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Friendship, Glam Rock, Glitter, London, M/M, Marauders' Era, One Shot, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-10-04
Updated: 2004-10-04
Packaged: 2017-11-20 06:31:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/582321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aura218/pseuds/aura218
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In their 7th year, the Marauders and Lily sneak out of school to go to a muggle concert. A story of friendship, which can be altered by circumstances but never broken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Nazz

"You're going to poke my eye out," I said.

"It's supposed to feel like I'm poking your eye out," Lily said. "Will you just trust me? I do this every morning."

At the other end of the boys' lav, Sirius and James were meticulously mussing their hair, Sirius trying to make his fall elegantly in his eyes while James was trying to look like he'd just rolled out of bed. A cloud of vanity spell residue hung over their heads, and the lav was beginning to smell like the Potions dungeon.

"Stop checking out my boyfriend's arse and look up," Lily said.

I turned my eyes to the ceiling and protested, "I wasn't looking at  _your_  boyfriend's arse, I was looking at  _my_  boyfriend's arse."

"Glad to hear it," James said.

James' tight, impossibly low-cut trousers with the Union Jack print -- the X over his crotch -- were rather attractive, and the torn "Bloody Wankers" t-shirt was a nice touch. But I didn't think about him like that.

It was Sirius who captured my gaze. Leather trousers, engineer boots, mostly unbuttoned shirt with a muscular, frankly phallic silver dragon crawling up his spine. Completing the look was a padlock necklace, spike cuffs on his wrists, and kohl eyeliner around his wide, expressive eyes. In a phrase? Sex bomb.

But then, Sirius always commanded that sort of presence, even in his school robes. I didn't feel as confident about the "glam" outfit Lily had transfigured for me. Nor the sparkly stuff she had sprayed in my hair and the tendrils that hung in my eyes.

"I don't know if I have the personality to pull this off," I said to Lily as she lined my eyes in glittery green. "I don't like drawing attention to myself."

The shirt was practically blinding and it fit funny. Were skinny boys supposed to wear tight shirts? Lily had made my trousers ridiculously tight, too, except for the flared cuffs. I was beginning to suspect she was just conjuring eye candy for her own entertainment.

"That's the point, Moony," James said. "A Muggle concert means you come as you aren't."

"You mean you're not a bloody wanker?" I said.

"Didn't sound like that last night," Sirius said. "Learn a silencing charm, mate."

James thumped him and turned colors.

"Girl in the room!" Lily said, but only for appearances; she was used to having boys as friends by now, no matter how much of a reaction Sirius persisted in trying to get out of her.

Jitters fluttered in my stomach, not just from the outfit, but also of anticipation. We were going. To. A. Bowie. Concert. Tonight, the patron rock god of closeted queer boys (who were dying to shout "I love Sirius Black!" in the Great Hall every morning) would be in the Same. Room. With. Me. And ten thousand other people, but that was a minor detail. I was going to see, in person, the pathologically cool androgynous android who had -- with one album -- convinced me that Lily wasn't completely daft for bringing her Muggle music to Hogwarts.

"You look gorgeous," Lily assured me as she finished with too much mascara.

"Damn straight," Sirius said, grabbing me by the belt loops and pulled my hips to his.

"Wait!" Lily said. She cast a charm on our shimmery lips. "Okay, now you can kiss without mixing the pink and blue."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw James suddenly become engrossed in packing up his hair potions.

"Can't have purple lips," Sirius said. "Someone may think we're faggots." He kissed me.

"Are you guys finished yet?" Peter said, appearing at the door of the boys' lav.

"Jeeze, Peter, is that what you're wearing?" Sirius said.

"What? Lily helped me," he said, insecure.

"He wouldn't let me do anything 'flashy'," Lily said.

I thought the t-shirt that read "Teacher's Pet" was kind of funny, depicting a manticore mauling someone pinned against a chalkboard. Surely, Binns had never looked more interesting. As for the rest of it . . . well, you can't go wrong with blue jeans and a jean jacket, can you? Once we got there, no one would notice his trainers.

James proclaimed that Peter looked "fine" and Sirius chose not to make an issue of it.

We were too old to fit under James' cloak anymore, so we owed our great escape to Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, plus a sleeping charm Lily put on Filch's dog. Sirius molested the one-eyed witch ("Open up, you saucy minx"), and we were soon tramping single-file through the hidden passage to Hogsmeade.

"Wait, my heel's stuck!" Lily cried.

"C'mon, Lil," Sirius said, impatient.

"God, I'm sorry!" she snapped, not at all sorry. "Obviously the  _men_  who built these secret passageways did not consider the needs of a woman dressed for the evening!"

Using Peter's shoulder for stability, Lily wrenched the heel of her platform sandal free, ignoring Sirius' grumblings about women of the evening (her skirt wasn't  _that_ short, I thought, though the Roman-necked halter-top was pretty daring of her). From Hogsmeade, we took the Knight Bus because Peter failed his Apparating test again. ("I'm sorry, guys, sincerely." "S'alright, Peter, I failed it the first time, too.")

So. I'm walking with my friends down a dodgy street in London, buzzing already from the bottle of cinnamon fire-whisky that we pass between us, and my boyfriend looks amazing. And I'm starting to believe that  _I_  look good, too, because pretty girls and gorgeous boys are catching my eye and smiling. I laugh, powerful and free, and stumble into Sirius. He catches me and we walk with our hands in each others' back pockets. I'm not a werewolf here, or mixed-blood, and if I'm queer, I'm in good company. The air is cool on my warm face, sweet with the promise of spring, yet smells of gritty Muggle London.

"Finally!" James announced.

Taking our cues from the crowd, we queued up half a block from an enormous amphitheater that put anything in Binns' Roman history lectures to shame.

"Oi, guys, I want to take a picture," Peter said.

We coupled up, giggling and goofing on each other and on Peter. The blinding flash entertained some strung-out girls standing nearby. I didn't want to know the dangerous Muggle substances floating around the crowd.

"These little pieces of parchment will really get us into the concert?" James was saying.

"You bought thi, didn't you?" Lily said.

"How can Muggles know they're real without being able to ask the tickets if they were conjured?" James said.

"Muggles can't conjure tickets," I said.

Finally, the line began to move. As we approached the ticket taker, James looked uncertain, as if he was half expecting to be clapped in irons. He looked enormously relieved when we were waved inside.

The venue was so vastly cavernous that it seied  _wrong_ to my eyes, accustomed as they were to cramped castle chambers. James and Sirius, who had spent their entire lives in the wizarding world, were gaping round like children. It took us a good ten minutes to find our seats through the excited crowd.

"James!" a voice called.

From a few rows ahead, a boy was waving up at us.

"Gideon, hi." James leaned over the ipty seats to shake hands.

"I didn't expect to see other Hogwarts students here," he said.

Gideon Prewett played Seeker for Gryffindor with James. Small, willowy, with wavy hair, he looked exactly like a weeping angel in a stained-glass window. He was sweet, understanding, and patient -- the perfect first boyfriend that I could hide from my friends. About a month into it, his tendency to avoid, at all costs, stating an opinion someone may disagree with began to grate on me. We parted amicably, and Sirius was much more fun to argue with.

"Oh, sorry, don't mean to be rude." Gideon said. "This is my boyfriend, Thom."

Introductions were passed around. The freedom struck me once again; the words  _this is my boyfriend_ never passed our lips at school.

"How did you get away?" James asked Gideon.

"Just rode my broom to the edge of Hogwarts property and Apparated to Thom's dorm," Gideon said.

My eyes flicked about the crowd, but no one seied to take broom riding literally.

"I didn't  _think_ I recognized you from Hogwarts," Lily said.

"No, St. Vincent's," Thom said. "I thought Gideon was just blowing smoke when he told me about his school, but I guess if you aren't looking at him like he's nutters, it must be true."

"How'd you lot get here?" Gideon asked.

"We walked to Hogsmeade and took the Knight Bus," Lily said.

"Lily knocked out Caligula," James said with a touch of pride.

Gideon laughed. "I hope that beast stays out for days."

We chatted for a bit until the rows between my friends and Gideon's filled in.

The house lights went down, there was a flash of light and sound, and there He was. Bowie. Guitar across his hips, tight pants and larger-than-life costume and god, those gritty/silken notes that hit me straight below the belt.

I wanted him. At least half the men and virtually all the women in the audience did. I wanted to run my tongue down that sculpted stomach, kiss the chiseled jaw, hear that sexy voice in my ear.

_He was the nazz, with God-given ass_.

When Bowie dropped to his knees and played his bandmate's guitar with his teeth, I felt a hand on my arm, pulling me round. I turned to meet a mischievous grin on Sirius' face.

"Men's room?" Sirius said.

Shocked, my widened eyes flicked around the crowd self-consciously until I realized that there wasn't a single person in this audience who cared one whit that I was gay.

"Let's go," I said.

The second-to-last cubicle in the long bay was open. I pulled Sirius inside, wrapped my arms around him, and kissed him as he fumbled with the door latch. He moaned into my mouth, his hips rocking against mine. He tasted of fire, the blend of cinnamon and alcohol still on his lips. His mouth moved to my neck, his hands to my zipper.

God, what hands, and what wonderful arms they were attached to. Muscled chest warm against mine, and  _ohh_  -- hands there, exactly where I craved thi. Bracing myself against the cubicle wall, I was making the door rattle rhythmically in the latch.

From the next cubicle, I heard,  _"Oh, Gideon_."

Sirius' and my eyes linked, and we grinned.

"God, Rius, just like that!" Sirius yelled, even though I wasn't doing anything to him (yet).

" _Gideon_!" Louder, daring Sirius to match him.

"Sirius!"  _This is insane! But oh, so liberating._

I sucked two of Sirius' fingers into my mouth, flicking my tongue over thi, telling him with my eyes what I wanted.

"  _Agathonos_ _,_ " Sirius muttered. The charm, which we'd found in the Restricted Section, was the best friend of every gay male wizard in the world.

One of Sirius' hands pumped my cock and the other teased my entrance, eliciting a delicious blend of sensations through my lowers. I cried out again, my voice bouncing off the tiled room. Someone hollered something, but I was lost in a tunnel of Sirius and the incredible, perfect pleasure he was eliciting.

With a cry of release, I rattled the cubicle harder than ever. I held on to Sirius, catching my breath.

" _Ohhh, Thom_."

"You want to --?" I panted.

"If you --"

I turned around and, a moment later felt Sirius' hands on my hips and firm flesh at my entrance.

"Ready?" His breath tickled my ear.

I could hear the strains of music and the ecstatic crowd outside the loo.

"Yes," I breathed; then, a second later, "Oh, yesss . . ."

Sirius moved slowly at first, hitting that pleasure spot with each thrust.

_Making love with his ego . . ._

"Harder."

Sirius sped up, angling his thrusts the way we'd discovered together we liked best. We were shaking the whole cubicle, the entire loo must have known what we were doing. I should have felt self-conscious and self-restrained, but I'd had just enough firewhisky that the sex was easy and painless.

He was going faster, harder, exactly what I wanted, and making passionate noises in my ear. I was seventeen and breathing, so of course I was able to come again as both of us shouted for all the world -- or loo -- to hear.

Gideon or Thom gave a throaty yell a second later.

Someone on the other side of the cubicles cheered, making the rest of the loo laugh.

When the blood was back in my head again, we cast cleaning charms and I zipped up with shaking hands.

"That was fantastic," Sirius grinned.

"I can't believe I just did that," I whispered.

"Fire-whisky is a many splendored thing," he said.

"We can't go out there!" I hissed at Sirius. "Look,  _you're_ used to making a spectacle of yourself, getting into trouble and all that. I'm the good one!"

"Moony, I'm not spending the concert in the loo."

Gideon and Thom's cubicle door banged open unabashedly, making me jump. Sirius' grin was full of teasing amusient. I waited for sounds of a drunken brawl, but no one even spoke.

I made Sirius wait a few minutes longer, until the crowd changed. There was nothing to be done about two blokes leaving a single cubicle together, so we walked as nonchalantly as possible, avoiding eye contact with anyone and trying not to grin like a pair of idiots.

When we got back to our seats, I maintained my carefully controlled expression, despite Peter's inquisitive eyes. James said something to Sirius, and he laughed.

The rest of the concert was a blast. Bowie, full stop, in his cross-dressing, Muggle, musically explosive self. I soon forgot to worry if anyone was looking at me funny. It was perhaps the best night of my life.

*

"We are the  _champ_ ions,  _we_  are the champions!" Lily and Peter sang gigglingly while the rest of us walked behind thi.

"Can't hold her fire-whisky, that one," James said.

"What's his excuse?" Sirius said, probably noting Peter's pudgy form.

"He is, and always will be, twelve," James said. They chuckled.

"Want to hail the bus?" I said. We'd walked far enough that the post-concert crowd had considerably thinned and the cool air had sobered -- well, some of us.

We heard an auspicious crack, and I reluctantly dropped Sirius' hand. This was the last time in the foreseeable future I could act coupley in public.

James and Sirius claimed a couch up on the open third deck, talking about quidditch something-or-other, while Peter put in his drunken championship predictions. On our couch, Lily wrapped her arm around mine and leaned sleepily against me.

"Have a good time?" she asked.

"Amazing. Thank you for convincing us all of the wonderfulness of Muggle music, my darling."

Lily giggled. "You're an ebullient drunk."

"You're too smart for your own good."

She giggled again.

"And a giggler."

" _Anyway_ ," she said. "I am thankful to the wizarding world for many things, but my music will always come from home."

I put my arm around her shoulders and she snuggled closer, heavy lidded. What time was it?

"Do you still think of it as home?" I asked.

"Little Whinging? I don't know. It used to be. I used to miss my parents and sister terribly when I went to school. But . . . I'm so different from thi now. Things that make perfect sense to me and anyone else at Hogwarts is crazy talk to thi. They always want to know about my life at school, but they just don't get it. You know?"

"Sort of."

"Oh, of course, it's different for you," she said. "Your mum's a witch."

"She doesn't use it at home, though."

"Your dad gives her the Darren Stevens treatment?"

It took me a second to riiber the television show I had watched seiingly a lifetime ago, before electricity seied exotic.

"I don't think so. They just chose live almost like Muggles," I said, chuckling.

"I wonder if Gideon will stay with Thom," Lily said, yawning. "They must be serious, if Thom knows about Hogwarts and everything."

I think we fell asleep talking, because the next thing I knew, Sirius was prodding me awake. I glanced at the next couch and saw James shrugging a sleeping Peter off his shoulder.

The walk through Hogsmeade seied twice as long as it had at the beginning of the night. When we finally stumbled back to the tower, we were met with a scowling Fat Lady.

" Philio Storge," James said.

"Don't forget to read your letter," the Fat Lady said.

Confused, we climbed through the portrait hole. On the first table, a letter was propped up and labeled, " _Five Gryffindors who Shall Be Sorry, if they Aren't Already_."

"Oh, merlin," Peter whimpered.

James, looking unconcerned, unfolded the letter and read it aloud.

" _I am attipting to control my tone of voice so as not to make this a howler, for it would be unfair to wake the rest of the house at whatever unholy hour you five deign to return. Suffice to say, being seventh years and some of you holding PRIVILEDGED TITLES THAT I NOW QUESTION THE WISDOM OF AWARDING does not give you freedom to come and go at will!_

_Nine a.m., my office, tomorrow._ _And don't expect to give me any tripe about being too ill to carry out your detentions, because when I get through with you, a mere hangover will sei like a picnic._

_VERY sincerely,_

_Prof. Minerva McGonagall."_

"Oi. We're in for it," I muttered.

"You guys always get me in trouble!" Peter whined.

"Come off it, Pettigrew," Sirius said. "We didn't throw you in a gunny sack and drag you to London."

"I'm going to bed!" Peter stomped up the stairs, and soon the slamming of a heavy castle door could be heard.

"I knew we wouldn't get away with this," Lily said tiredly. "G'nite, guys," she said. "Wash off that makeup before you go to bed."

Sirius and I left James and Lily to say goodnight alone in the common room. Though Sirius bounced on the stairs, the thrill of the evening was starting to wear thin on me. Everyone was going to be angry when they discovered that we, no doubt, lost a million points from our house again.

I stripped to my pants and tossed the clothes in a heap by my bed. I'd transfigure thi back tomorrow, I mused and headed for the lav.

"C'mon, Moony," Sirius said, while we attipted to scrub the now-melted eyeliner off our faces. "Cheer up. That was a great concert."

I smiled. "Yeah." I leered at his bare chest. "Really great."

"This stuff is really sticking," Sirius said.

"Can you imagine McGonagall's face if we showed up tomorrow wearing makeup?"

Sirius chuckled.

The door banged open and James passed us on the way to a cubicle.

Sirius whispered, "Sleep with me tonight?"

"It's three in the morning," I whispered back.

"Just to sleep. Please?"

"All right. After I wash this glitter out of my hair."

My head was under one of the gooseneck spigots when I heard James washing up at the sink next to me. I sensed him looking at me, and several times, I thought I heard him take a breath as if to speak.

"Thanks for getting those tickets," I said.

"Yeah, sure." His feet shuffled on the stone floor. "Why are you doing that now?"

"This stuff's got all over my clothes. I don't want to get it on Si- um, my pillow."

James made a noise I couldn't parse with my head in the sink.

"You guys slipped off for a while," he said.

"Um," I said.

"Does it hurt?" he said innocently.

I started. "Pardon?"

"Sorry. You all right?"

"Yes, thank you." I rubbed my head where it had connected with the spigot.

"I'm just curious. Does -- what you guys do together? Does it hurt?"

I could feel heat blossoming across my bare shoulders. I supposed most straight boys my age were curious -- we were all obsessed with sex -- but I'd never been confronted by the question.

"Sometimes. Usually not. There's a spell that takes care of, erm, certain issues."

"Oh."

The sound of my fingers working shampoo into my scalp filled the stone bathroom.

"Me and Lil have to get a Contraceptus potion from Pomfry," he said, in a free-form association that I barely followed.

"Quite a turn-off," I said, glad to have the conversation off my sex life. "Having to tell some old medi-witch that you're having sex. This school is a fishbowl sometimes."

"It's a pain," James said, clueless of the irony.

I finished rinsing my hair and stood straight.

"Still have a bit in the back, dear," said the mirror on the wall behind me.

"Bloody stubborn stuff," I sighed.

"Want me to try a scouring charm?" James suggested.

"Yeah, maybe that'll work better. Thanks."

The room was silent while James cast charms at my head.

Our group had always been James and Sirius, best friends and ringleaders, with Peter and me as add-ons of a sort. But this year, things had changed. James was spending more time with Lily, something Sirius had griped about at the beginning of the year but was starting to accept. We weren't kids anymore, I'd told him; it was inevitable that we'd pair off at some point. Even Peter, of a Hogsmeade weekend, had left us for that Hufflepuff sixth-year.

James was my friend, but I didn't know what he thought of me dating his best friend, if anything. It wasn't the sort of thing you could ask a bloke without coming off like a whiny girl.

"I think I've got it all," James finally said.

"Thanks," I said again.

"No probli."

Back at the dorm, Peter was apparently already asleep behind his drapes. James crossed to his trunk to undress for bed.

I hesitated, debating going straight to Sirius' bed versus climbing into mine and switching when James closed his drapes.

"Goodnight," James said quietly, and his eyes flicked to Sirius' bed. He flashed a small smile.

I smiled back gratefully and said goodnight.

"Wet hair," Sirius complained sleepily when I curled up beside him.

"Hush up and go to sleep," I whispered affectionately, kissing his shoulder.

He murmured something incoherent.

The bed felt like heaven after the grungy night and long walk. Sirius smelled of boysweat and pheromones, and I would have taken advantage of the situation if I weren't so bloody beat. I drifted off with the weight of his arm across my middle, his legs entangled with mine, surrounded by warmth.

Whatever hell we were going to catch tomorrow, the five of us would face it together.

**Author's Note:**

> "The nazz," from "Ziggy Stardust," is slang (American, surprisingly) for a damn sexy man who is "without a trace of crassness." Bowie actually snitched the word from a 60's jive poem called "The Nazz," by Lord Buckley, about a "carpenter kitty" who was the " coolest, grooviest, swingin'est, wailin'est, [...] cat that ever stomped on this jumpin' green sphere."


End file.
